Thursday, 13 September 2012

Fat, Environment, Sex, Therapy, Babies, Fat

I was so excited that I had lost 4lbs, sad thing is I seem to have gained it back. Im still stuck at 180. Sigh.

I got into a conversation at work today with one of the boys over the causes of depression and mental disorders in general. While I know he wasn't trying to be offensive to me (as they know my condition), it was hard to hear that there is an environmental route to everyone's problems. Somewhere down the line something happened to fuck your brain up, and that by dealing with that stuff and eating properly it can be fixed. Like I am somehow doing this to myself. Like I want to be bipolar. Like I want to have my relationships suffer. I didn't want any of this, and while I admit that in my darkest days it kind of felt like I was addicted to the sadness - I think that's how this works. You have to fight the addiction, and then deal with the disease. I have beaten the addiction now. I am trying to manage my disease - with 8 pills a day and some therapy.

Andrea and I have been great lately. With the exception of one thing. Sex. I know, logically, that she isn't doing it on purpose - but 6 nights out of 7 it seems she has a headache, or is too tired, or is not feeling well, or whatever. She says I am not being bold enough - but I'm kind of tired of being the one to initiate and get turned down. I tell her lots throughout the day that I am turned on or whatever - but idk. I'm starting to get a complex. Like she doesn't really think I'm attractive anymore so thus doesn't want to sleep with me. The sex, when we do have it, is awesome in my opinion - there just isn't enough of it. I don't want pity sex, but I do want to feel attractive to her - regardless if I think I'm attractive myself.

I'm incredibly sensitive to being made fun of lately. My mom has done it, and Craig has done it recently. I find it completely dampens my mood and puts me in a dangerously angry mind set. Seriously, it makes me want to run away, or cut myself - or otherwise separate myself from the rest of my family. I don't know when I became so sensitive to it - you'd think I'd be used to it by now.

I go see Mark next week. I must admit I'm kind of looking forward to it - I have some things I want to discuss. I want to throw them out there to someone objective and just be heard yk? Get his opinion.

The baby talk has increased, and is actually productive now. I'm more okay with it this go around. I think realizing I couldn't, no, shouldn't carry a child due to my bipolar really helped put things into perspective. That, and Cooper has been helping a lot too. Everytime I see him I feel more okay and generally learn something about myself or this whole situation. I'm still incredibly sad at what I am losing but it no longer reduces me to tears and a great depression. It no longer results in a decrease of my self worth - which is a great thing for me. All I have to do as my prerequisites is to get better in the head lol, more stable anyways, and get healthy (IE lose some weight). I don't want to be an overweight mom any longer. I'm not setting a good example for the kids I do have, nor do I want to bring a new child into this world and (as vain as this sounds) be in pictures looking like this. This will be my last baby - I want to remember it fondly and not be disgusted by the pictures I will see.

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